Brown Shoes
I met a guy named Claudio. He lives in Majorca and happens to be our Seabourn tour director. As part of his responsibilities, each evening he gives a port briefing for the next day’s destination. Tonight’s briefing is about Amalfi and Positano. Claudio is always impeccably dressed. Tonight was no exception as he was wearing some very nice shoes, brown shoes. For those of you who do not know me well, I hate talking about shoes, especially those that are brown. Many women in my life all enjoy conversations concerning brown shoes. It has been a running family joke – when they want me to leave, they start talking about brown shoes.
Anyway, during the briefing, Claudio demonstrated these mighty fine shoes he had purchased in Amalfi. He hopped around like Peter Pan, “they fit like a glove,” he says. I knew I needed them. I really want to be able to dance like that. After the briefing, he whispers to me that he got them in a store called, “Stefania.” I now had a destination and a plan for our short visit to the Amalfi coast.
Amalfi and Positano are beautiful seaside towns. They are wonderful places for photography, especially from the sea. The buildings are beautiful with pastel colors and interesting architecture, crawling up the mountainside. Kathryn was excited to photograph them and to crawl up the mountainside. I had another thing in mind. I wanted to buy those brown shoes. Mom and Sis, I think I finally know how you feel when you see the right pair of shoes.
In the morning, we traveled from Amalfi to Positano by boat. The scenery was exquisite. But all I could think about was hurrying back to Amalfi for thise brown shoes. Though I did stop to take a photo or two.
We walked past a shoe store in Positano which specialized in sandals. They would even make a pair for you while you waited. Nice gimmick. Nice sandals. No dice. No brown shoes. I had my sights set on a particular store in Amalfi. I was told they had the shoes I wanted.
Back in Amalfi, we endured the tourists and the heat. But, nothing could stop me now. I knew I was getting close. As we walked up the street, I was stopped by an elderly Italian gentleman wanting to sell me a shirt. “I sold a dress to Katy Perry on July 17,” he quipped. I tried to move on but it was too late as he firmly grabbed my arm. “Look at this wonderful white shirt I have for you. Traditional Italian linen, just like the one I am wearing.” Nice shirt, I thought, but, let me go. I have an appointment with destiny. I wriggled free promising to return. I am pretty sure when you make a promise to an elderly Italian male, you had better keep it.
I continued up the street until I found the store. It was small, filled with three sales people and many tourists. After jostling about for awhile, I got a pair that fit. Watch out Tinkerbell, here I come.
I quickly returned to my Italian shirt salesman, can’t keep him waiting. We arrived to meet him with his son who didn’t look at all like James Caan. But, I wasn’t taking a chance. Theirs is a family business – my old Italian friend and I know that I am buying a shirt. They picked out a nice white linen shirt, and I was done.
By the way, Amalfi is wonderfully photogenic.
Remember, it’s all about the light and keeping the family happy!
[…] our tour director, in his Sanremo port presentation (remember him from the “Brown Shoes” story), said the old city, “la pigna,” was a delightful area for photography […]
[…] heard of my new friend Claudio. He helped me with my brown shoes (read about it here). He’s also the guy who does port briefings each evening, promptly at 6, to introduce us to […]
[…] Brown Shoes […]